


Todd the music snob

by everythingremainsconnected



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff everywhere, M/M, domestic life, we all know Todd is a total snob about music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10870842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingremainsconnected/pseuds/everythingremainsconnected
Summary: Todd can't believe that Dirk doesn't know what music is, but when you grow up in a facility what choice do you have? Mid-way through the argument Farah is unamused and of course Amanda saves the day.





	Todd the music snob

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post...](http://princessparadoxical.tumblr.com/post/156527067022/saw-a-dirk-gently-aesthetic-post-that-included-two) I couldn't help myself

Todd had never been one for lying around sunning himself like a cat, but Dirk did strange things to his boundaries. They were sprawled on the couch, their faces quite near to each other, Todd scrolling through music on his phone and Dirk reading a book beside him. Respecting the comfortable hush that had fallen over the apartment ( _their_ apartment, somehow, though Todd still had no idea what that meant) Todd put a single earbud in his ear to listen. He changed songs every thirty seconds or so, peculiarly undecided about what to listen to.  


Dirk tentatively picked up the second earbud. Todd glanced at him, waiting for a reaction.

Dirk remained anticlimactically unphased. “What’s this?” 

“The Cure?” Todd replied incredulously. “Iconic band from the seventies?” 

“Oh, like The Beatles!” 

“No? What?” Todd reeled. “How can you-? Ugh, never mind. How about this?” 

Song after song was met with much the same reaction: blank disinterest. 

Todd grew increasingly frustrated, throwing favourite songs at Dirk and getting absolutely no response whatsoever. He gave up and whomped Dirk with a pillow to the face. 

“Ow! What on earth was that for?” 

“You’re screwing with me. That’s the only logical explanation. There’s no way the only British band you’ve heard of from the last fifty years is _The Beatles_!” Todd kept swinging the pillow, shouting incoherent sentences about tasteless detectives. 

Dirk was frantically trying to text while being mildly savaged (sadly, not ravaged) by his tempestuous assis-friend. “I had a lot going on, thank you very much! How much of _your_ teen years were spent on the run from a top-secret government agency in a _totally_ foreign country, hm? Ow! Really, does it have to be the face?” 

The moment was brought to a screeching halt by Farah kicking the door down. Her handgun trailed over the room, taking in every detail, looking for something other than the world’s biggest dorks to shoot. After a moment she trained her weapon on the pair who did not look suitably contrite at all. “Dirk? What did we say about text messages?” Farah asked in a low voice. 

After a brief introspective pause, Dirk looked down. “To be very careful in phrasing the level of danger?” 

“Do you know how many speeding tickets I got on my way over?” 

“Your arrival is quite expedient so, probably, about three?” 

“Four.” 

“Never fear, Farah, the universe will take care of it. Why are you aiming that at me?” 

Farah sighed and closed her eyes briefly. “I’m aiming it at both of you. Someone owes me a drink.” 

Todd hit Dirk with the pillow one last time before calling Amanda. He stormed into the kitchen, raving as soon as she picked up the phone. “Can you believe he has never listened to music in his life? Because I can! He just thinks everyone is The Beatles!” Meandering around the kitchen, barely pausing for breath, Todd got Farah a cold soda from the fridge. He passed it over mid-rant, “he doesn’t even know who The Clash are, Amanda he is British, _how can he not know this_.” 

Suddenly, Todd was silent. His cheeks went an uncomfortable shade of pink. 

“Todd?” Farah asked slowly, her paranoia kicking into overdrive. 

Through the speaker, Todd could hear Amanda and the Rowdy Three pissing themselves laughing. “Thank you very much, that’s excellent sibling solidarity, Amanda.” Todd said acidly. 

Someone growled down the phone and Todd felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “You watch your mouth, kid.” 

“Get your head out of your ass, Todd,” Amanda laughed, “and make the boy a mix tape.” 

The phone went dead. 

“What’s happened?” Dirk leaned over the back of the couch, clearly concerned. 

“Nothing. I’ll be back.” Todd picked up his laptop and a CD wallet and hid in the bathroom. 

“Should we be concerned?” Farah asked quietly. She sipped her soda. 

“He hides in there all the time, don’t worry,” Dirk assured her. “Would you like some lunch?” 

“Don’t let him cook!” Todd shouted from the bathroom. 

A small kitchen disaster and one Chinese takeout delivery later, Todd emerged from the bathroom, holding a blank CD. He found a marker and scribbled across the front before handing it over to Dirk. 

Farah took one look at the pair before grabbing her food and leaving. “I’ll see you at the office.” 

Looking at the disc in his hand, Dirk frowned. “What is this?” 

“It’s a mix CD. I used to make mix tapes all the time and this is as close as I can get these days. It’s got a bunch of songs you really should know, and some of my favourites, and you need to-” 

Todd was interrupted by Dirk throwing gangly arms around him. After a beautifully crushing moment where Todd decided he’d love cracked ribs if it meant more hugs from Dirk, he was released, only for Dirk to stare into his eyes in disbelief. 

“I love it.” Dirk said softly. 

“You haven’t even heard any of it yet.” 

“But Todd,” Dirk smiled, “ _you_ made it for me. I’m going to love it, I can just tell.” 

“Is this a universe thing?” 

“It’s an ‘I trust you’ thing.” 

“Oh.” Todd blushed again. 

“I ordered your favourite and Farah helped put out the stovetop fire with remarkable efficiency. You can hardly tell anything ever combusted.” 

Todd sighed. “Ok.” 

“Can we listen to this while we eat?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Todd put on the CD and they sat on the couch, looking at Dirk as they listened. He was too nervous to eat. 

“Todd?” 

“Yeah?” 

Dirk sat forward, his eyes wide. “Is this The Clash?” 

“No, they’re up next.” 

“Oh.” Dirk had a mouthful of food before speaking again. “Todd?” 

“Yes, Dirk?” 

Dirk moved with surprising speed for a man who didn’t seem to know where his limbs were at any given moment. He pressed his lips to Todd’s for a hummingbird-quick kiss. Dirk sat back, eyes shining, waiting. 

Todd’s cheeks went pink and he sat motionless, staring. His body eventually gave up on waiting for a neural response and flung itself toward Dirk. Todd kissed him, their mouths clumsily crashing together, hands and limbs and food everywhere.


End file.
